The Girl With The Dandelions
by my-friend-hope
Summary: In Rory's POV, he falls in love with Prim as years go A Prim and Rory * R&R!
1. 6 Years Old

**I don't own this; I really wish I did though. Suzanne Collins does. **  
><strong>Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor.<strong>

6 Years Old.

Every spring, when the Meadow in the Seam turns colorful and beautiful, everybody comes out at least once to take a glimpse. Children play in the fields of flowers, picking, admiring or just smelling them as hours go by. During the harsh winters, where the trees in the Meadow lose their leaves and a blanket of snow covers the grass, no one goes outside. Everybody has their curtains closed and the cats poke their heads out from the windows, awaiting signs of spring.

In the crack of dawn, on the first day of spring, I shrug on my jacket and as quietly as I can, I pull open the door and tip toe outside. I can already see the changes in the weather. The clouds haven't rolled in yet, and I can see the green of the leaves on a few trees as I walk by.  
>I reach the Meadow, and once again, my breath is taken away. The snow is replaced by a field of green grass, dandelions, millions of them, dot the sea of green like little bursts of sunshine.<p>

I'm mad when I hear footsteps coming my way. I'm not ready to share this with anyone yet so I find a pretty tall rock to hide behind. Then, I see her, walking in hand in hand with a taller, much older girl. They have baskets in hand, and they're laughing. She let goes of the older girl's hand, and starts picking dandelions. She's wearing a simple green dress with lace trimmings strung neatly at the on the bottom. Her curly blonde hair is done up in two braids at the side of her head, and her cheeks are slightly red. She is spinning, her arms spread open and her feet poised on her toes. Accidentally, she flings the basket that was on her arm up into the sky and it rains dandelions. They fall in her hair and she giggles. She crouches and picks the dandelions, filling up her basket. Some are still in her hair as her sister, just a few years older than her, gives her a warm smile, takes her by the hand and they run home. I watch them until I can't see them anymore and I come out from behind the rock where I was hiding and I walk home.


	2. 7 Years Old

**I watched the Hunger Games movie two times so far, both with different friends, but I felt the same way every time I finished watching. I'm not so sure what I think about it, just that in some way I was hugely disappointed. Prim was sad and cried a lot, didn't have the braveness Suzanne Collins always said she did. She just didn't seem happy at all. That killed my spirit and I wanted to write about her the way I imagined her as I fell in love with each and every book of the trilogy. Thanks for the people who actually read this, by the way. This is Suzanne's work. Not mine**

7 Years Old

I start to whistle as I lug the heavy wagon of grains and breads behind me, feeling light headed. Of course, Gale would never let me take terasse, but he was off hunting in the woods and he told me to collect it for him. Most of the time, Gale catches us a squirrel or a rabbit to eat for dinner, but sometimes that leaves a hollow feeling in my stomach I just can't shake away. It'll help with some grains.

A mockingjay passing by in a tree stops chirping and listens intently as I whistle, and after a few minutes, he starts to whistle with me, adding a chirp here and an extra note there. I'm amazed at this little bird as I continue walking back home, the bird hopping from tree to tree around me.

I see her, then, when I have both my hands behind me, trying to lug the wagon. I'm having trouble with it, and she can tell. I'm frozen in place as she turns her head in my direction, her eyes sending a shock down my spine. With her blonde hair flying behind her like a cape, she runs up to me. "Need some help with that?" she asks earnestly.

I scoff. "What, me? Help?" I say meanly. "I'm probably ten times stronger than you!" I suddenly realize how rude that sounds and I start to open my mouth but the sound of her laugh stops me.

"I bet you are, Rory." She grins, shaking soft, blonde hair from her face. "But even the strongest need help sometimes."

I nod uncertainly, move out of the way to let her take the handle, and I start to push it from the back. She's running, her cheeks turning red from the wind, and I'm laughing. We run all the way home, red streaks on our cheeks and our hair whipped back. She gives me a small wave, a big smile and walks home.


	3. 8 Years Old

**Bleh, this one was just one that I wrote when I was on the edge of boredom. It was sweet and simple, (I hope) and fun to write. Short, though. Oh, and by the way, this is Suzanne Collins work. **

8 Years Old.

Raindrops fall on my face as I shake my dark brown hair from my face, the ball under my feet. Every move I make depends on this game. I'm dribbling the ball past the other players until I see her.

She's out in the stands, her soft blonde hair waving around her shoulders. She sees me and she gives me a smile. It runs a shudder through me and I can't turn away. I trip over the ball, and do a summersault. I twist my ankle and bolt of pain shoots through it.

It's it, though, for the game. We lost, which means we won't be in the finals this year. The other team players watch the timer count down, 5 4 3 2 1. It's over. Some of my team mates shove me a little as they leave the field. I lay on the ground, eyes closed and grimacing as the sky pelts me with raindrops. Each one feels like acid and they burn through my skin. I finally open my eyes and try to get up. I'm on the verge of tears, they're excitedly lining up at the edge of my eyes.

"Don't do that," a soft voice whispered behind me. It's her, and the winds blowing her hair into her face, but her cheeks are red. She comes next to me, kneels down and brushes the soaking strands of my hair off my face. "You'll twist it even more. Here, let me take you to my mom." I know enough to know her mom's sort of a doctor.

She wraps her arm around me and helps me up. Her touch sends a tingle down my spine as I blink back tears. I wobble on my one foot and we jump back all the way to her house. We finally talk, for once, laughing and crying at the same time. We tell each other stories, funny ones and sad ones, we tell each other secrets. In five minutes, I know more about her than I ever knew before. It makes me love her even more. I long for her as I try to sleep, every thought on the girl with the dandelions.


	4. 11 Years Old

**So I've met a person who thinks that flowers and candy and money is so important when you have a boyfriend, she cried when her boyfriend never gave her anything but a sketch of her, painted and beautiful. He had put a lot of work into it and I felt devastated for him when she broke up with him. This is for you, Dave. Oh, and all rights go to Suzanne Collins.**

11 Years Old.

Roses. Lilies. Petunias. My head is spinning as I feel each of their petals between my fingers. The flower shop lady is smiling up at me, waiting for me to choose.

At school, the teacher told us that a long time ago, before Panem, our ancestors had held a holiday on February 14th. It's about love. He said to get into the spirit of things, you could send a flower, candy, or even a note to someone in our class.

Gale and Katniss had just brought down a buck yesterday, and he let me take a few coins to buy something special for her. Flowers, but what kind? It hits me like rocks. I wonder why I didn't think of it before. "Do you have Primroses?" I ask shyly."

The next day, I hide the primrose under my shirt, but there is really no use. I'm at school so early it's an hour before the teacher unlocks the classroom door, spilling tea on his shirt as I race past him into the room. I sprint to her desk, place the primrose delicately on it, take a piece of paper and write a note, and slip out of the class.

The bell rings, as we slip into our desks. I'm surprised to see a pile on my desk- notes and chocolates, and the most surprising, a small piece of paper folded into pieces with her name written neatly outside. I'll open that one last.

I sneak a peek at her desk. It has about the same amount of things as mine, but no one but me sent her a primrose. I squirm in my seat, and the teacher says we can open our gifts.

All the boring, sappy notes I stick into the recycling bin secretly, and stick sweets into my pocket. Finally, I open hers, slowly, my fingers trembling. It's a drawing of a deer, its head cocked to the side, with a stubby tail and four hooves that are poised delicately. This drawing is so exact, so well drawn that my spine shudders. At the corner, she wrote something.

"Yesterday, on the way home from school, I saw a deer. It was munching on some grass, and it stayed incredibly still as I sketched it. Just as I got to its head, it slowly turned it towards me, like this. Its eyes were so shockingly gray, like yours, I decided to give you this instead of my original gift. I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed drawing."

I turn my glance to her and she meets it, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. She mouths the words 'Thank You." and so do I and I turn away before I can let her see my smile.


	5. 12 Years Old

**I loved writing the suspense the reaping causes between them. I hated writing Gale and Prim's pain as they watch the games. I guess this was a mediocre chapter, then. It's very long, though, so stick through with it! All rights to Suzanne Collins**

12 Years Old.

Her name is picked. Effie Trinket just said so, with her wig wobbling on her head and her makeup running. But it's true. I see her, her blouse untucked from the back. She looks so frightened, so scared. I want to run up and volunteer, but that's impossible. I do run up to her, though, but I don't reach her fast enough. The peacekeepers engulf her. I'm crying, tears are spilling fast down my cheeks. One falls onto my lip. It tastes bitter.

I see her sister calling for her with the same panic in her eyes I'm sure I have. She pushes the Peacekeepers away, screaming, shouting, kicking, and calls in a loud voice "I volunteer! I volunteer for tribute!"

I've known Katniss for a long time, I respect her and I like her, and I have to say without her I could be dead. That's why I'm so ashamed to say this, but those might've been the best words I've ever heard in my life.

The rest of the reaping goes by so fast, it's a blur. Gale doesn't get called, it's some boy named Peeta Mellark. I'm not paying much attention to anything on stage, though. The only thing I'm doing is throwing her looks and looking away when she catches my eye. Her eyes are swollen, and her hair's a tangled mess. Her cheeks are still red, and her blouse is still untucked.

I turn to Gale. He's scared for her, too, I can tell. But his eyes aren't on her, they're on Katniss's, like everyone else's. He's mostly scared for Katniss, the brave girl who's hunted with him for so long. They're like siblings, but they're not. They're best friends, and my brother loves her.

However, all I see is her, with her blonde hair and her frightened, pale blue eyes.

A scary thing happens then. As Katniss and Peeta stand up and shakes hands, Effie is about to usher them out when I swept off my feet in a daze of confusion. One by one, people in the crowd put their three fingers to their lips, slowly, cautiously, and hold them out to the newest tributes of the 74th Hunger Games. I put the forbidden fingers to my lips and hold them out, not sure if I'm doing the right thing.

It's the sign that was banished so long ago by the last Head Peacekeeper. It's the sign no one is sure they can use. It's the sign that means danger, sacrifice, and love.

It's the sign that means goodbye.

It's been a week since the reaping. The television flickers on and Gale's head turns. It's Caesar, announcing the world it's time for the hunger games again. Great.

"Get them." Gale tells me tiredly. This has happened so many times I know who he's talking about.

I run outside, with mom yelling at me about sweaters. I turn, sprint down the road, and I see the house. I run up the steps and knock on the door. It creaks open, and all I see is a pair of scared blue eyes. It's her. She opens the door wider and she nods. "Mom's sick." she says with a voice so dull it frightens me. "It's just going to be me tonight."

I pull up the nerve to hold her hand. She raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything as we run back together, hand in hand, not wanting to miss anything.

We get back, and Gale holds the door open for us. He looks hollow, too, like the rest of us. He never gets any sleep, skips classes to crawl into the woods to hunt, stares out the window for hours a day, lost in his thoughts. I don't know what to make of him anymore as he leads us to the old couch and we take a seat.

Katniss is onscreen at the moment, holding her bow loaded in her hands as she walks down the river bank. She seems as if she doesn't care if the rest of the Career pack hunt her down, she looks like she is ready to take every one of them on if she has to. After Rues death, she's been strong. When the announcement was made that there would be 2 victors this year, she said Peetas name, clear and loud before ducking her head. Since then, she made her way back to the river in search for him. We know where he is, though. He's camouflaged as mud, lying as still as a stone just a few feet away and as Katniss calls his name, he answers.

"Here to finish me off, sweetheart?" he seems to mock her as he says so, and I think it brings a smile on Katniss's face.

The rest of the episode goes by quick enough, we're all glad when Katniss doesn't remove Peetas underwear. Prim even gives a laugh or two as we watch. Over all, it was a good Hunger Games day. Even so, as Caesar reappears on the screens to tell the world good night, Prim has tears in her eyes.

She's clutching my hand. "Walk me home." She half orders, half whimpers. She holds my hand tightly the whole way back. It sends a shudder through my body. At the door, she turns to me with swollen eyes."Thanks for being such a good friend." she says, and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

I smile. And I walk away.

The train pulls in as she squeezes my hand, an ear to ear smile on her face. I squeeze back as I look at Gale. I don't know how well he'll handle this. He loves Katniss; I know this now because he whispered it to me after he saw her kiss Peeta once. He was upset, I know, and I saw a few tears roll down the tip of his nose.

The door slowly opens as Katniss, one foot in front of the other, makes her way down, hand in hand with Peeta. Even though they just won the Hunger Games, thy both look dull and hollow. Gale gulps, gives a slight shake of his head and mutters something quietly as he slips away from my side.

Katniss's face turns bright as her lips form a real smile, her eyes happy as she runs to her beside me, embraces her in a big hug with tears running down her face. "I told you I would win. I would win for you." she says in a hoarse, raspy voice. Katniss hugs her so tight and they're both laughing as their mother wraps them in a hug. I quietly slip away and let them have that moment to themselves.

I escape into the meadow, where I see the opening to the woods. I wriggle down on my belly and grab a bow and arrows Katniss gave me for my 12th birthday. I walk as quietly as Gale taught me, avoiding large branches and stepping lightly as I could.

I hear a shake from a bush as Gale pokes his head out. "God, Rory." he says, shaking his head hair from leaves. "You sound like a thunderstorm out there. You're scaring away prey, for God's sake."

I roll my eyes and give him a face. We take a hike around the forest. "Why did you run away?" I ask as we walk. "It's just Katniss."

Gale sighs. "She's in love with that Peeta guy. I can see it in her eyes." he looks away. "Why did you run away from her?"

I know who he's talking about. "I'm just giving them time." I say, looking out into the meadow."I'm not avoiding her." Gale gives a grunt. I squint hard and see a little blonde headed girl with pig tails and a smile so big it brings one up on my face as well. "There she is. I'll see you at home. Talk to Katniss!"

I wave goodbye and wriggle out loudly from the fence, stand up, shake dandelions out of my hair, and run up to see her, trying hard to keep my cool but loosing it at the sight of her.

"Rory!" she calls, and we stop as we reach each other. We fall onto the grass and she giggles. "My sisters back. I can't believe it! No, wait, I can. I knew it all along! "

I smile, brushing a strand of loose hair from her face. "I know." I say, hugging her. "I think we all knew she was coming back." We're silent for a bit, a comfortable silence. A question pops up into my head. "Do you think she really does love Peeta?" I ask without thinking, and blush creeps up on my cheeks.

She nods, her face full of earnest. "Of course!" she says dreamily, looking up into the sky, her legs crossed. "But I don't believe she doesn't love Gale. She always has, but she sees something special in Peeta. That's not wrong."

I nod slightly and lie back down into the grass, she does too and we point out clouds until darkness falls over. I take her by the hand and we run home to the party held for Katniss and Peeta. Every time I see her, I have to bite my tongue to fight back the urge to tell her I love her.


	6. 13 Years Old

**Not much Prim and Rory *fluff* in the beginning of this chapter. It's pretty hard to write anything too romantic when bombs are falling on their district. It gets better further on, I have to say. All rights to Suzanne Collins! (Do I have to keep saying that?)**

13 Years Old.

As the screen turns off, Gale looks at me with fear in his eyes. We know what Katniss did, shooting an arrow at the force field. It took several seconds for us to shake of the confusion when the first bomb hits the school so hard it shakes the district. Sounds of panic and yells echo along District 12 as Gale runs around the house, grabbing this and that. I take Posy's hand and Vick and wait patiently for Gale. He seems to know what to do when the rest of us don't. Another bomb falls, and a shudder runs through the house. Gale gives me a look and quickly opens the door. We all run out onto the streets.

Panic falls over me as I see our district- or at least it used to be. The roads are crumbling with ashes everywhere. People are on the streets, begging, moaning for help. I see a woman screaming, tears streaming down her face as she holds at her shoulder. She has no arm.

I gasp. I see the hovercrafts above us and I feel anger flushing through me. Once again, the Capitol is showing us how powerless we are against them.

Gale leads us down the streets, jumping over bodies and fallen poles, ordering us to cover our mouths and noses with the neck of our shirts. We make it to the meadow, as the next bomb crushes our house. I'm relieved we got out when we could. Gale listens to the fence quickly for an electrical hum before helping Mom and Posy in, lifting the wire up for Vick. I'm about to follow them when he stops me.

"Get them." he says one last time, this time with panic in his voice. "Get them, and bring them here. Make sure they get under the fence. I'm going to see if I can help anyone else.

I nod, my whole body shaking with fear as Gale runs off in the opposite direction of the woods. I gulp, and force my arms and legs to move. I sprint down the roads, trying not to look at the dead bodies on the streets. Bomb after bomb falls as screams and shouts fill District 12, and I try my best to avoid them.

I finally reach her house, and tears of joy fill my eyes as I see the house is still up. Of course it is, though. The Capitol would never bomb the Victors Village. I try the door, but it won't budge. I pound at the door, screaming her name.

The door flings open as she throws herself into my arms, sobbing. She's saying my name over and over again. I let myself pat her head and hold her in my arms for only a few seconds until I lead her and her mom back down the streets. I see her face as she sees the bodies on the streets, broken and twisted. I make her and her mom get under the fence first before I wiggle in after them.

Vick is collecting berries in a large leaf while Mom's trying to stop the bleeding in Posy's arm. She cut it on a sharp metal pole on the way here. It doesn't look too deep, but the main worries are blood poisoning or tetanus.

Her mom takes one look at the cut and frowns. "I'm going back and bringing some medicine." she says grimly. "Posy's cut doesn't look bad, but just in case, I'll disinfect it." She wriggles under the fence and runs off down the street

Mom looks so thankful; I know she's staying strong for the rest of us. But she has tears in her eyes and she ducks her head before any of us can see. She's cooing Posy's name and kissing her forehead. She looks at us while Posy cries, wiping her red nose and dabbing her eyes with her sleeve. "Get us some food, Rory. Katniss taught you last year." She orders. "As for you," she points her chin to her, standing limply next to me. "You either help him or help Vick gather some berries."

I run down, searching under a big rock for my bow. She runs behind me, curling her fingers around mine. Silently, we tiptoe down together as I shoot down a clumsy rabbit and a squirrel high in the trees. I check Gale's snares and I'm happy to see more than nine squirrels in total. I grab a burlap bag and stuff them in, and reset all the snares. I curl my fingers around hers and run down the leafy forest's ground.

I sit down on a big rock, patting the spot next to me. "How are you?" I ask stupidly.

"I'm just great." she snaps back. She doesn't take the seat next to me but instead, starts pacing around me. I'm surprised until she shakes her head. "Look, I'm sorry. You out of all people must understand what a hard year this was for me."

I look at her. "Of course." I say, and she gives me a genuine smile, the one with sorrow yet happiness mixed together. I hold onto it in my mind, knowing I won't see it in a while, sad or not. She sits next to me, and leans against my shoulder as I fiddle with her hair, taking a strand or two and twisting it until she giggles.

The nasty stench of rotten fish fills my nose as Gale pushes me along the cafeteria. The tables are crowded with people hungry for food and digging in with their hands, ignoring the neat, matching sets of forks, knives and spoons set near them.

I see Greasy Sae, wiping her dirty hands on her apron and adjusting her hair net. She never wore these things back at District 12, but District 13 is all about hygiene. I literally can't cough anymore- if I do, people throw me dirty looks as well as napkins.

I accept a bowl of clam chowder, obviously sent from District 4, a late wedding present for Finnick and Annie. "What's up with the smelly fish?" I ask her, pointing my chin over to a box pushed aside to a corner. Despite my bad eyesight, I can make out a fuzzy fish tail poking out of the side. Greasy Sae sighs, wipes the sweat off her forehead with her arm, and continues chopping her... whatever.

"A district sent a whole load of them a couple of weeks back." she explains. "Never got 'round to eating 'em. I hope Hanny doesn't get told off too bad for spoiling 'em."

I nod, pretending to know who Hanny is, take my chowder, and leave. I walk cautiously, trying not to spill even a drop from my bowl. I make it to the Everdeen/Hawthorne's table in time and I collapse across Gale who's almost finished.

Peeta's there too, this time the guards just stand next to him menacingly. Peeta seems all right to me, though. He's starting to lose the crazy look in his eyes. I start to eat, digging in with my fingers, starving. Everyone had to go down to the underground farms this afternoon and dig turnips like our lives depended on it. It tuckered out everybody.

I see her walking in, rushing to stand in line for her share of food. President Coin seems to take record of everybody who's ever been late for anything. She takes her chowder and sits next to me.

"Why are you so late?" I ask her curiously. I realize Katniss isn't here, either. If she comes too late, she'll miss her whole meal entirely.

"Mom got me looking for Katniss." she says, digging around her clam chowder, frowning. "She freaked out when we rode the elevator past the mines. It was even worse when we passed this room with giant television screens with Peeta freaking out at the sound of Katniss's voice on every single one of them. She ran then, and mom told me to find her. It wasn't very hard to find her, though. She was in one of the supply closets."

I search her face. She's trying to keep her emotions bottled in, but I can almost see tears at the edges of her eyes. "Peeta seems to be getting so much better." I point out. "Besides, I ran into Haymitch the other day, and he told me your idea about hijacking him back is working. You know Haymitch isn't the one to lie about that stuff."

She nods hopefully. "She seems so torn, though." She says and her voice breaks. "She loves him, spent so much time worrying about him when he was kidnapped by the Capitol. But since Peeta thinks she's some kind of mutt, she's not taking it well."

A loud beep rings through the room as we put our dishes away for our next- I don't know, activity, I guess. I check my arm, and I'm relieved to see I have an hour off until the next. So does she and I pull her by the hand, to the left, and up the winding stair cases. Since the bombing of the Capitol, our bunkers were destroyed. But Gale took me up here a couple of times for me to know the way.

It's only about two minutes until we reach the last staircase. When we get up, panting, I would pay a bucketful of money to see her reaction again.

Instead of ashes and crumbling walls, this place was unharmed. It's an old room with peeling wallpaper and creaky floorboards. But if you put that all behind you and look more closely at the walls, you can see stories. They're written this way and that way, curving into spirals that make you dizzy. Even so, I've spent hours up here, reading the words on the walls behind the ugly brown wallpaper.

She walks around the room, peeling off wallpapers at every wall until all you can see is words. Suddenly, the dull, drab room has been changed to a breath taking sight, lines of words strung together along wall after wall, with different fonts and sizes. It's what they call beautiful. She has tears in her eyes. "It's been so long," she says, running her hands along the walls, distinct tears forming in her eyes. "It's been so long since I've seen something pretty."

I find a surprisingly new mat deep down the closet, and after wrestling with it for a while, I lay it down carefully along the floor and we read for the whole 54 minutes we have left together in each other's arms, wiping away both our worries and just seeing each other and the beautiful words through the dim light.


	7. 16 Years Old

**Prim never died. She never died in my world. I just can't end this story now. Katniss does all the killing and Coin dies and blah, Prim's non-death doesn't involve it. Finnick never dies either. Okay, that was just cruel! Finnick had no reason to die, and so he doesn't. I don't want them to die, so that's the way it's going to be! Oh, right. All rights go to you, Suzanne Collins.**

16 Years Old.

The hovercraft sways a little and I hold my stomach, groaning. I've vomited up my breakfast and whatever else that was left in my stomach.  
>She's suppressing a smile, I can see. I throw her a glare as I wipe my mouth with my sleeve and sit across her, just a seat off so we can stretch our legs out and rest them on the seat across. As we do so, I put my hand on her leg and she does smile, a smile I haven't seen on her when she was young. It's a smile with no trace of worry.<p>

The trip to the Capitol had been surprising. After the war ended, and Katniss assassinated President Coin, Gale took off to District 2 for some bad ass job. He calls once in a while to check up on us, and every single time, he asks about Katniss, but just out of kindness. He knows he'll never get over the girl on fire.

Things turned scarier during the trip when Finnick invited us over to his house. We dug through a box full of his old stuff and he put on a net that went together at the groin, and struck poses for us and talked to us in a seductive voice for the whole day. Annie seemed to have such a big laugh out of it, and their son was giggling the whole time in his high chair.

She looks at me with her pale blue eyes, they meet my gray ones, and she reaches out her hand. I take it, running my fingers with hers, closing my eyes and dozing off.  
>We arrive back at district 12, where Peeta, Katniss, Posy and Vick wait for us. It wasn't a surprise to any of us when Peeta and Katniss got married. It was unexpected when Gale came to the wedding. No one saw him but me; he stayed for a couple minutes, shrinking behind the crowd until he slipped away quietly.<p>

The hovercraft starts to shake a little as I grab our luggage from the side. I start to struggle with them she walks beside me, grinning. "Need some help with those?" she asks with mock earnest.

"What, me? Help?" I scoff. "I'm probably ten times stronger than you!"

"I bet you are, Rory." She smiles, running a finger on the handle of our suitcases. "But even the strongest need help sometimes."

I'm surprised she still remembers that, even though I've thought about those words so many times I'm sure I could recite them in my sleep. I look at her, shaking soft blond hair from her eyes and grin. "The wise words of a seven year old."

She wraps her arms around me as the hovercraft sets down carefully in District 12. I see Vick, 13 years old, rolling his eyes as 9 year old Posy jumps on her heels wearing a bright pink hat.

The platform starts to go down as I pull our suitcases in one hand and curl my fingers with hers. We walk down the platform, hand in hand, as our family surrounds us, hugging us and asking us questions. I sneak a look at her, she does too, and I let go of her fingers as we turn to two different directions.


	8. 19 Years Old

**I am a man of six feet tall**  
><strong>Just looking for some answers<strong>  
><strong>In a world that answers none <strong>  
><strong>Of them at all<strong>  
><strong>I'll say "hi"<strong>  
><strong>But not reply to the letters that you write<strong>  
><strong>Because I found some piece of mind<strong>

19 Years Old.

The first time I hold her in my arms, I can barely breathe. She's so fragile, so delicate- one wrong move could break her. Katniss tells me not to worry, she feels that way too. She looks at the little girl as if she's wondering, as if she's asking her if she's really hers. The first time I hold the little girl in my arms, she is next to me, tears at her eyes. I have to remind her many times to keep breathing. Her fingers are curled around my shoulders, holding on so tightly, I'm sure they would hurt for a few weeks.

The first time I hold the little girl in my arms, I realize that even though she looks incredibly like Katniss, she looks a lot like her, too. Her laugh, her nose, her cheeks. I look for every little detail I can find. When I give her back to Katniss, I see her holding her breath as her little girl comes back to her arms. She gives a small giggles as the baby plays with her long braid.  
>Peeta is watching them like a protective hawk. He was the first one who held her in his arms, slicked back the couple hairs on her head, and gave her a kiss. Then Katniss gasped for her and she was in her mother's arms.<p>

Beside me, she grins, her cheeks red and her hair wavy around her face. She looks so different from the girl I fell in love with thirteen years ago, but somehow the same. She has her big, pale blue eyes, her pointy nose, her delicate mouth, and her wavy blonde hair. She's outgrown her pigtails and her braids, but now she wears it down.  
>Her personality is exactly the same, her playfulness, her kindness, her shyness, everything that makes her, her.<p>

All that goes through my head as I see her, and I lean in. "We should give them some privacy." I whisper in her ear. She nods, takes one last look at the girl in Katniss's arms as if she's in disbelief, and we walk out of the room, out the door, and into the streets of District 12.

We head into the woods in silence. The fence is still there, but there's a door now that you can use to get in. Someone hacked a messy trail that leads to a small abandoned house, a lake, a ripe strawberry bush, and plenty of hunting grounds. It's legal now to hunt.

We decide to go down to the strawberry bush with a basket in our hands. We pick without a sound for about thirty minutes or so until our baskets are full. With a silent agreement, we start heading for the lake, a small one with tiny fish that are too bony to eat, where lily pads scatter the surface, and where katnisses grow literally everywhere.

We reach the lake, and I'm surprised how fast the sun had gone down. It offers only a slight ray of sunshine that brightens our faces. She takes a katniss root in her hand, crouching down to the water. I throw a strawberry into my mouth, walk over to a rotting old dock someone built, roll up my pant legs and dangle my feet into the icy cool water. Being the middle of August, the wind that's blowing in my face is humid and I feel the drops of sweat pour down my cheeks. In a way, it's torture.

"Once, Katniss brought me here, a few days before she got married." She says suddenly, joining me on the dock and dipping her feet into the water. "She was nervous, like every bride is. She told me that dad and her came here lots of times before he died, where he taught her how to hunt, how to collect edible plants, pretty much how to survive." She pauses for a minute to munch slowly on a strawberry. Then she continues, this time with more joy in her voice.

"We spent the evening talking about him." she sighs. "Everything about him- his eyes, his clothes, his hairstyles. She reminded me of how I used to wipe off the coal dust on his shaving mirror. We cried together until it got dark and we ran home." She frowns. "I don't know why I told you that, it doesn't concern you at all. You must be bored out of your mind."  
>"No." I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. "I want to know everything about you; I don't care if it doesn't have anything to do with me."<br>She grins. "Thanks, Rory. I miss him so much." She bites her lip. "Katniss's baby looks so much like him, Katniss did too. The Seam look."

"She looks so much like you, you know." I say, swirling my legs around the water, making ripples. The sun is behind the mountains now, leaving a dim shadow on everything in the woods. It's pretty eerie as the mockingjay sing and the rabbits hop around on quick, nimble feet, but breaking a twig or two.

"I don't know." she says. "More like Katniss."I shrug. She got me thinking of my own father. Gale and I look exactly like him, with the shaggy dark brown hair, strong jaw, deep gray eyes, and long fingers. I notice the sun had completely disappeared, and I can't even see her face. A crazy thought pops up in my head. "I know what would get your mind off everything."  
>She looks at me curiously- or at least I think she did. "How?" she asks, and her voice sounds as if she's choking back tears.<br>"Let's skinny dip." I say seriously, running my hand through my hair nervously. I don't know what she would say. She's quiet, and I'm surprised to hear her laugh after a second. "Rory, you think of the best ideas." she says while she's giggling. "All right then, Rory. I guess we're skinny dipping!"

There's no point in hiding behind a bush to strip of our clothes. Besides, nudity isn't much of a problem at District 12. Even Katniss got over it after the Hunger Games.  
>I take off my shirt, my pants, and my boxer shorts. I shove my clothes behind a bush, concealing them under large maple leaves. Cautiously, I walk to the water's edge, completely naked and I hear her walking slowly towards me. I smile to myself, before giving my hair a quick toss, tuck my chin in slightly, raise my bare arms above my head and I jump, diving into the water.<p>

The icy coolness of the water takes me by surprise. I'm frozen. My arms are so rigid I can't move them at all and it's as if all the feeling in them had left. The water tingles against my skin as I try to get my legs to kick. I'm getting deeper now; there is pressure against my ears. It feels as if someone is punching them. Slowly, I open my eyes. I adjust to the darkness and I look around. I can kick now, but I stay underwater as I pass mini, colorful fish. They dart around me and swim away as fast as I can. I see the dark green leaves of an unfamiliar plant as they wave at me, and I wave back.

Unlike most ponds and lakes in this forest, the water's crystal clear. Ever since the war, citizens of District 12 that had the courage to venture the forest have been coming here often for a drink or two. Nowadays, when icy cold, natural water is scarce, people would come for a refreshing drink. On hot august days like today, kids would have water fights and swim.

I swim to the surface of the shallower part of the lake and I poke my head out, gulping in air. I know she hasn't come in yet. "Come on, the water's nice." I call out. I hear my voice echo, and in a few seconds, I hear footsteps running on the dock, a joyful yell as she jumps in, and a splash. The moonlight brightens her face as she comes up to the surface, shaking her blonde hair. I swim towards her, grinning, and taking her hands. "It's about time!" I tell her, twirling her around in the water.

She rolls her eyes. "You were underwater for so long, I thought you drowned." She grins. "It's not that I would've minded or anything."  
>I splash water at her face and she does the same. I swim around, avoiding her sprays, laughing. The water's turning my legs numb but I don't care. If I could, I would save this moment forever, just live in it until I'm old and gray. Seeing her just lightens up my face. It gives me butterflies just thinking about her<p>

.  
>She reaches me and dumps a handful of water on my head. I groan and spit water out of my mouth as she laughs, twirling around me as if she's mocking me. Her hair is illuminated by the moonlight, and I can see her face clearly now. There are drops of water rolling down her eyelashes and on to her nose. There are a few freckles on her nose, and her lips are curved up in an ear to ear smile.<p>

I swim to her, and I look her in the eye. Slowly, I try to use my hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, but since I'm also treading water, I start to sink and I cause a big amount of commotion to steady myself. She's laughing at me as I pull myself up on the dock, shaking my hair. She follows me, and we get dressed behind a bush. The sun is coming up, but the night hasn't ended yet. I walk back to the dock again, hand in hand with her this time. We sit with our legs dipped in the water, staring at the sudden stillness of the lake.

I look at her with a smile. She grins too, and I'm about to look away, but instead, she takes my face in her hands. We're so close now; all I can see is her eyes. They're like the sky, the pale blue sky that falls over the Meadow just before the sun sets. They remind me of the first day we met, with the dandelions in her hair.  
>She leans in and presses her soft lips to mine. My mind goes blank; all I can think about is her. My body shudders as my hands wrap around her waist and I pull her towards me. She runs her hand through my hair, and as we pull out of our kiss, I feel her smile. We lay down on the dock, as close as we can, and watch the sun rise, <em>together.<em>


	9. 24 Years Old

**So this is the end, it's quite short. Prim and Rory, Rory and Prim. They were meant to be. Please, R&R. That would mean the world to me! It's been fun writing this. Most of the time, as I wrote this, I listened to the song Colors by Grouplove. Check it out, it's a very… nice song.**

24 Years Old

She sings for them every night. I read to them every night. The girl with the dark brown hair chopped messily in a bob. She has pale blue eyes like her mom. She's 3 years old, with chubby arms and legs. The younger one with the wavy blonde hair and gray eyes, with freckles on her nose, follows her sister everywhere with a toy in her arms.

I think about their lives. They have the luxury we never had growing up. They have food on the table every night, a mother, a father, uncles and aunts. They have toys, they have paper. August, the younger girl, loves to scribble on them every day. Paige, the older one, has already climbed up on our piano stool and banged on the keyboards until our heads hurt.

We watch them play on the Meadow. Katniss says it's a graveyard, but the thought scares me. I push it out of my head as I sit next to her, watching them together. She says she's played on the Meadow with her sister when they were young. I don't tell her I know, or that I watched them that one day. She says she loves the dandelions there.

Peeta says Katniss is the girl on fire. The Capitol says Katniss is the girl on fire. Every District says Katniss is the girl on fire. I say Katniss is the girl on fire.

But the girl who stole my heart so long ago isn't Katniss. The girl who stole my heart, we are together. We always were. Prim and Rory, Rory and Prim. Primrose Everdeen, she's the girl with the dandelions.


End file.
